Some may have heard of practicing a program of rigorous honesty

Me, at the cusp of 40, trying to practice a program of

Rigorous selfishness

I have to remind myself of this on days like today

When something doesn’t feel right

When I don’t want to do something

Because inside I know it’s all bullshit

And just for appearances and such

I have to ask myself

Is this in line with living an authentic  life

Cause after all this time

You owe yourself an authentic life

That means no fucking faking

Cause your afraid of what people will think

And you want to keep up appearances

And someone’s feelings might get hurt

It’s time to lay all that to rest.

If people really knew, they would thank you

For being genuine.

A program of rigorous selfishness

Means I still help the people I love

I am helpful by nature

It means that I don’t do optional

If it feels like I will not be true

To myself and others

I have quit my stage job

I’m just an unemployed actress now

Looking for a new profession

~Jenny

There will be many choices

On the way to your destiny

Choose wisely

They all lead to the same

Destination

The question is

Will you choose the road

That is rocky

Difficult

Hope testing

Or will you choose the road

That offers the most beautiful

Scenery

The smoothest ride

With the best travel

Companions

There is no shame in that

Too often in this life

It is touted to take the road

Less traveled

Well I say,

It is ok not to

take that road

There is no valor

In being a hero

For the simple sake

Of being a hero

Heroic lives

Happen accidentally

Choose the easiest road

And enjoy the ride

All roads lead

To the same destination.

~Jenny

I’ve been sitting here in the home office

Looking up what happens to pets after they die

After my parents have lost a 2^nd dog

In a 2^nd week

According to psychics

Dog utopia, it says

 

And I look over

At my cat

Laying on the window sill with

A back drop of beautiful blue sky

And ever so subtly changing

From green to autumn colors

Leaves gently blowing in the wind.

 

He is watching them,

My cat, then he looks at me

And says, in his greenest eyes

“of course I know, I know everything,

And. I’m sorry.”

 

 

And I wonder what really happens to them,

And to us after we die.

 And as I was looking out

At my cat gazing through

The screen

And we both looked at

The peaceful trees

And I thought of Roy the dog

Who we just lost

Who I was with on his last night

Being sick

Who we all took to the vet in the morning

who looked kind of like a puppy again

the last moment I saw him

on this planet

as they wheeled him into the room

I thought this, in that quiet moment

as I looked at my cat

and the trees and the leaves

blowing gently

against the blue sky:

“Maybe there is a world I left before this one

And the people there miss me

But I just don’t remember

Because I’m not supposed to”

~Jenny

There has been the
grafting
the grooming
the trimming
the pruning

the forcing a shoot
the small pot for root

opening my blooms
by day
closing by night

a bag over my branches
to prevent frost bite

no more
no more I say

let me grow
and open my blooms
by night and by day

let me grow wild
in rocky soil

cut off the top
and start again

these buds are not mine
they are where you began

let my own buds grow
spread as far as I please

wild thorny shoots
wild spreading roots
growing so far
opening to heaven
under the stars

I am a wild thing
no more pruning
priming
or grafting their
things
its mine
its mine

I am a wild
and natural
thing.

~Jenny

Death was nothing to me then
as I sit here in a mundane life
typing away meaningless shit.

I am brought back,
something brought me back to it
and my ears started ringing.

I am very young.
And that day comes again.
Riding in my grandfather’s pristine
car with the white interior.
My grandmother’s mother has died.
We are going to her funeral.

But, it is not sad.
But, it is not happy.
It just is.
As I watch it all out of my
little girl movie camera in my head.
I see us pass by the trees and green
green grass on the road in Ohio.

We
are all together.
I know it is for something special.
But that is all I know.
We are all together, in our souls even
and it is a beautiful day outside.
And other people are in charge.
I always liked it when other people
were in charge.

And the white leather of the seats
is so soft. And the grandma and grandpa
smell is beyond comfort.

We get to a church.
I look up at big glass windows
in the wooden tower
streaming in light.
I think some people are crying.

This is something for great grandma.
But I do not feel sad for her.
I just observe.
I somehow know she is not here anymore.

At the cemetery, there is a tent,
and a casket is lowered,
and a priest says some words.

I will never forget.
“Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.”
So it is to the dust we return.

We can throw some dirt on her coffin
in the hole to remember this for her.

It is my turn.
I take my handful.
And I let go every last bit
and brush both my hands together
like one would after gardening
to get all the dirt off.
To make extra sure this was
good for her.

I do remember this.
This was death
to my little girl mind
to my little girl soul
who was not so far away
from her source at that time.

~Jenny

Every once in a while
I see one of my people
It is not often
because we are in hiding
hiding from the world

Like this morning
pulling out of the gate
on my way to work
I saw a little red headed
guy
his face mostly covered
by his hoody
as he fought the wind
while walking his dog

Just a glimpse
of his elf face
sparse red beard
shy eyes
littleness

I could just tell
he was one of us
and it made me
not feel so alone
it made me feel
happy.

~Jenny

I am sorry
things turned out this way

I read your stories
the ones you wrote in school
you’ve been to the North Pole,
Mars, and even other dimensions

Your heart filled with wonder
& hope.

But I must now tell you
a secret
a terrible secret

Life.....eats childrens souls

It chews on the hope found
in your bone marrow
it slurps the stars & galaxys
that float around in your blood
& then it devours
your child soul
& cleans its teeth
with your little rib

So you are left with
an adult soul 
& we all know
that adult souls
are defective

Adult souls
are filled with fear
of things sillier
than boogy men
under the bed

 Adult souls
are slaves

~Jenny